


The first ignition.

by Rattrina



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Aftercare, M/M, Swordplay, Temperature Play, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27669391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rattrina/pseuds/Rattrina
Summary: Ares's and Dionysus have their first adventure into wax play.If there any links or prompts you would be interested in seeing explored by the pair then even message me here or on twitter or tumblr.@Infiniteambigu1https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hadeszag
Relationships: Ares/Dionysus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	The first ignition.

What was that smell? Never before had the God of war been disarmed by an unexpected sweet attack on his nostrils. A further inhalation was needed to ascertain the features of the scent. There were distinct hints of black berry fruits, with hints of dark chocolate and leather, both powerful and complex. The scent was simply delicious, Ares felt the increase of saliva in his mouth. What would cause a God to salivate? Ares was eager to discover the source. 

He had planned to explore with his nose as a guide but soon he surmised that there was no need. The scent would come to him. An acute sense of smell soon provided proof of his suspicions; the scent slowly grew stronger indicating that the source was closing in. The salvation was mopped away with a handkerchief. It would have been unsightly to be caught with a drooling, dribbling mouth. 

A shimmering glass was held high, full of a dazzling inky purple liquid. The combination of nectar and the ripest, most flamboyant fruits of the vine created a drink which resembled liquid jewels and smelt of the purest essence of temptation. Off the glass light danced in kaleidoscopic rays creating wondrous sequin pattern reflections on the ground. Ares's eyes travelled slowly down the swan neck glass to the hand of the bearer. Fruit stained varnished the nails, a sign of sybarite indulgences yet the fingers were thick and strong. Ares recognised the hand immediately, they belonged to the God of wine; Dionysus. His hands earned their strength through the art of war. A skilled warrior was a scarless warrior whose hands were never blood stained by injury but were soaked in the blood of their victims. Dionysus's hands earned their strength through squeezing: fruits, buttock, thighs, breasts, cheek, anything to please and tease. 

Ares honed in on Dionysus's face to engage him in conversation. Was he here for folly of theatre? It was difficult to read a man full of excessive calm and expansive pleasure. His face was mirth incarnate, despite his power and capability it was hard to take him seriously. With a smile similar to someone off their head on narcotics it was easy to see why. 

"It seems you are escorting the aura of merriment into my temple. The air is perfumed with intoxication and the light is playing strange games with colour." His deep velvety timbre was always polite but still it managed to embody something sinister, darker than the surface chivalry. The look in his eyes was passive, modest even, but lurking beneath his pupils was the pulse of his violent heart. 

Dionysus echoed his laughter upon the pillars, turning the temple of war into a clown's circus. Playful eyebrows danced in mock surprise as his distant eyes toyed with suggestive winks. "You could use a little fun man. You are way too serious, way...wwwaaay too serious. Don't get me wrong you are a gentleman through and through despite how dangerous you really are. I still think you need to completely let loose for a while man, just be free and you."

What was that smell? Never before had the God of war been disarmed by an unexpected sweet attack on his nostrils. A further inhalation was needed to ascertain the features of the scent. There were distinct hints of black berry fruits, with hints of dark chocolate and leather, both powerful and complex. The scent was simply delicious, Ares felt the increase of saliva in his mouth. What would cause a God to salivate? Ares was eager to discover the source. 

He had planned to explore with his nose as a guide but soon he surmised that there was no need. The scent would come to him. An acute sense of smell soon provided proof of his suspicions; the scent slowly grew stronger indicating that the source was closing in. The salvation was mopped away with a handkerchief. It would have been unsightly to be caught with a drooling, dribbling mouth. 

A shimmering glass was held high, full of a dazzling inky purple liquid. The combination of nectar and the ripest, most flamboyant fruits of the vine created a drink which resembled liquid jewels and smelt of the purest essence of temptation. Off the glass light danced in kaleidoscopic rays creating wondrous sequin pattern reflections on the ground. Ares's eyes travelled slowly down the swan neck glass to the hand of the bearer. Fruit stains varnished the nails, a sign of sybarite indulgences yet the fingers were thick and strong. Ares recognised the hand immediately, they belonged to the God of wine; Dionysus. His hands earned their strength through the art of war. A skilled warrior was a scarless warrior whose hands were never blood stained by injury but were soaked in the blood of their victims. Dionysus's hands earned their strength through squeezing: fruits, buttock, thighs, breasts, cheek, anything to please and tease. 

Ares honed in on Dionysus's face to engage him in conversation. Was he here for folly or theatre? It was difficult to read a man full of excessive calm and expansive pleasure. His face was mirth incarnate, despite his power and capability it was hard to take him seriously. With a smile similar to someone off their head on narcotics it was easy to see why. 

"It seems you are escorting the aura of merriment into my temple. The air is perfumed with intoxication and the light is playing strange games with colour." His deep velvety timbre was always polite but still it managed to embody something sinister, darker than the surface chivalry. The look in his eyes was passive, modest even but lurking beneath his pupils was the pulse of his violent heart. 

Dionysus echoed his laughter upon the pillars, turning the temple of war into a clown's circus. Playful eyebrows danced in mock surprise as his distant eyes toyed with suggestive winks. "You could use a little fun man. You are way too serious, way...wwwaaay too serious. Don't get me wrong you are a gentleman through and through despite how dangerous you really are. I still think you need to completely let loose for a while man, just be free and you."

Ares examined the garden of purple hair, wayward and wild. Hidden within the overgrown straying locks were embellishments of grapes which appeared to be thriving there. Just a few bold steps and he was close enough to pluck a juicy fruit and devour it. The grape exploded with flavour in his mouth; his tongue did not know how to handle the intensity of sweet and fruity. "My fun causes suffering of others. As gentlemanly as I may seem, it is just a mask for the brutality I crave."

Dionysus plucked a grape and brushed the tantalising fruit against Ares's lips. "So your fun is a little more kinky, a little more edgy man. So what? You are a God so acting out your deepest fantasies is a doddle. So Ares mate, what would put a smile on that handsome face of yours." Ares held the grape in his teeth for a moment before he bit down and let the juice soak his mouth with irresistible sweetness. A peel become lodged between his teeth. He skilfully wielded his sword to pick it out. 

As Ares strolled away leaving screams in his wake, Dionysus let his eyes follow with a leisurely curiosity. Once again his eyebrows playfully rose with intrigue as Area stroked his fingertips along the long smooth length of a white candle, with the same tenderness one would touch the face of a loved one. 

"I have a proclivity for fire. War and fire are both filled with chaos, violence and passion. I am a moth drawn to the flame." A spark and Ares ignited the candle. He grazed longingly into the flame, almost hypnotized by the potential within the embers. 

"My satyrs and sileni perform amazing feats with fire, absolutely astounding dances and stunts man. Honestly your mouth would drop to the ground. " Dionysus leant against the wall, regarding the candle with his natural cool idleness. "So how would you have fun with a candle man?"

"Please give me your back." The request from Ares was answered with Dionysus turning away to face an ornately carved scene of warfare in the wall. The light of the candle provided an atmospheric contribution of a sensual gloom, a warm light to spotlight any part of the body he pleased. It wasn't just the light that was pleasing, so was the bearable edge of pain from the heat of the wax on the skin. He started by hovering the flame over the length of the spine, up and down, so close that it felt like contact had been made. Dionysus purred in "mmms" into the sensation of the heat. 

So Dionysus could tolerate, even enjoy an increase in temperature near the flesh. A wicked smile played across Ares's lips, an excitement to test the boundaries of burning and pleasure. One oozing drip reluctantly left the candle and fell into a puddle onto the proudly posed back, forming a waxy pool in the indent of the spine. Dionysus writhed and arched in shape with a sharp hiss vibrating between his teeth. 

"Do you think you can handle me painting your back with burning?" Considerate Ares queried, ensuring he wasn't exploiting or causing any emotional harm to the God of ecstasy . Dionysus chuckled softly, the gaiety of his mood seemed unchanged. "No man, I am fine. It is a surprise that you are interested in such exotically taboo things. You know me, my mind is open. Exploration and experience add to the richness of life. Indulge in your art.",

Drip...drip...smothering wax became fluid molten paint as Ares indulged in sadistic creative urges. In his mind he drew carnage of severed limb and slain warrior on the skin. With every swirl and waxy blob Dionysus performed a sensual squirm and wiggle, as though he was frolicking upon hot coals. 

Ares pitched the flame to extinguish it. His masterpiece was now complete. A few steps backwards were taken so that he could admire his handiwork. His tongue lulled and moistened the front shields of his teeth. It was deeply satisfying to see his artful alive in the silk canvas of Dionysus's back. The throb and sting of mild burns gave the piece a heartbeat. 

Aftercare was essential for affirmation and to show genuine affection. With a tenderness of cashmere soft strokes Ares moved the meadow of purple hair out of the wax. A few wayward strands had managed to become glued in place. Ares manually scrap the hair clean again. With hair out of the way and cleaned it was time to remove the wax. The sharpness of the blade made every one of Dionysus's hair stand on parade. On command of the cold steel smooth surface the God of wine stood as straight as a wall. In his chest his heart became still and his breath hid within his throat. There was something exhilarating, frightening thrilling about the risk involved. If he made one involuntary movement or if Ares slipped them he would be cut by the merciless blade. It was an experience which made him feel alive. Quite an unexpected result for a worldly god. How brazen, raw and sore would be be? Would blood trickle from a clumsy moment or would he remained unscathed? Damn his heart and the insistent beat! Dionysus urged it to cease but it simply wouldn't relent. To join his heart on the 'bane list' was his skin. Why did it insist upon trembling. No amount of will seemed to halt it. 

Ares was skilled in the manipulation of weaponry. He was like a chef preparing a delicacy for fine dining. The razor edge of his sword sliced away the wax with enough pressure to remove the substance but not enough to pierce the skin. What was left behind was the burnt silhouette of the wax, a reddened trail of beauty, tender to the touch. As caring as he was dangerous he continued to tend to Dionysus. The sword was tucked securely into his sheath before he fetched two urns; one full of water and the other soothing olive oil. He poured the water into his back to cool down the stinging heat of the burns. 

"Ooooo, that feels good man, very refreshing" Dionysus comes as he enjoyed the sensation of coldness on his hot back. He flung in his hair back, a cascading waterfalls of wine so that his hair became soaked in the revitalizing water. Ares obliged to the contentment by pouring every drop of water over Dionysus head until his body was covered in glistening droplets. 

After the water came the oil which Ares scooped into his palms and generously rubbed over Dionysus's back. A firm gentleness was used for application as he massaged in circular kneading motions. 

Dionysus was ever complementary and positive, dishing out a cornucopia of praise. "You are really good at massaging, really good man. You should consider adding masseuse to your list of godly attributes.My back is melting like butter . Tension..what tension, you have declared war on my knots and stress." 

"It is rare to find anyone to experiment with my dark fantasies. I admit that my presence can be disturbing I am geared and loathed yet given deference in equal proportions." Ares continued to massage, using his thumbs as though they were smooth rounded stones. 

" I admit that I am intrigued man. You have made me think of pleasure in a new light. Pleasure is my domain yet there are chamber I still need to visit. " Dionysus felt enlightened and stimulated. He still felt electricity tingling every nerve, even in more sensitive region. He would have to explore more of Ares dark fantasies, that was for certain. 

"Next time, perhaps you would let me drip was in intimate areas, the inner thigh, the buttocks, the chest?" Area asked gently as he tried his hands on a towel. Dionysus faced him with an encouraging smile. " Yes, yes definitely. Come and find me when you need to experiment. I can make myself available, especially for you. " With that Dionysus disappeared into a drunken wave of merriment and frenzy as his lifestyle of festivities and frolicking continued. 

Ares was left pondering Dionysus's willingness and thresholds. How far could he push the god? Should he tiptoe near his thresholds and even venture beyond them? These were questions he hoped to fully investigated in the future. There was still do much more he wished to sample. His imagination was excited by the infinite possibilities he could think up.


End file.
